


Sucker's Bet

by TahlLlama



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Cliche Loan Shark Nonsense, Dead by Daylight au, Debt Collectors, Gambling, Just Because It's Short Doesn't Mean It Won't Hurt, Love and Loss, M/M, Someone dies, debt collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 10:14:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20044303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TahlLlama/pseuds/TahlLlama
Summary: A Dead By Daylight AU I wrote for a little competition in a discord server with the ship Dwight/Ace, Prompts; Death, AngstIt's short, but I am happy with it.





	Sucker's Bet

He'd brought him into this, and for that he'd felt guilty, but this.. this was unforgivable, not that he could  really beg for the forgiveness. He fell to his knees in the wet sand and waited for his fate. He prayed  silently , if there was a God, for them to be merciful on his wicked soul. To wash his hands from what he'd done here.

_ Shit. _

He was on a losing streak, he knew it, the dealer knew it, Dwight knew it, everyone at the table knew it. All eyes were on him for his next move as he looked down at his cards. The sunglasses could hide his eyes, but he didn't have anything to hide the sweat rolling down the back of his neck. If he lost this hand he  was done for, dry, broke, in the hole, completely and  utterly penniless. What then? Live in a refrigerator box with his boyfriend in downtown Vegas? Hope the loan shark didn't find them? He deserved so much better than that.

He  gently prodded his elbow into Dwight's side, who was clinging on to his arm like a lost puppy.  It was a signal they'd rehearsed a hundred times, he always did well in this rehearsals, but became a nervous wreck when it was time to do it live .  He held his breath and Dwight let him go, walking away from the table, tripping over a stool at a different table game and taking  multiple patrons to the floor with him . 

All eyes were now on Dwight Fairfield, time was short while everyone was looking at the spectacle of the skinny man trying to get back on his feet that seemed to  constantly tangle on themselves .  Ace's fingers worked quick, slipping a card up his sleeve and a new one out of it into his hands, all without taking his eyes off of Dwight trying to help a lady to her feet . It sounded cliche, but he  literally had an Ace up his sleeve.  He jumped to his feet when he  was done , leaving his cards scattered on the table and helped Dwight to his feet, even readjusting his tie for him . 

The excitement settled down and Dwight continued on away from the table. He'd return soon, and  hopefully they could scram with some money before anyone caught on. He took his seat back with his fellow players who all  harshly stared him down.

“What can I say, he's clumsy,” he chuckled, flashing his perfect teeth and that award winning smile, “Anyways, I'm all in.”

He shoved his chips forward and smirked, the other players raised a brow in seeming unison, most folded, this was the first time all night he'd put something like this on the line . He was counting on that. One person put their bet forward. Call. He flipped his cards and let them slap against the soft surface, his face triumphant.

Somebody scoffed, “The fuck is that supposed to be?”

“That's called a full house my friend,” he replied  coolly .

“Funny, looks like a two pair to me..”

A cold sweat washed over him and he looked down. He was right, that's exactly what it was.  Fuck me.  His opponent's cards hit the table next, a flush. Ace knocked his stool over as he stood, dumbfounded that he'd lost. 

He found Dwight in the lobby of the casino, hanging out by a snack machine unwrapping a piece of candy, he snatched his hand up and went for the door .

“Ace, what's wrong?”

“I fucked up,”

“What? How?”

He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a card, the eight of clubs, “This  was supposed to be a three..”

“So you lost, but you'll bounce back.”

Sure that was true, he'd made comebacks, or find… another way out of his debts. This was different. He owed a lot of money that was now unaccounted for, and they weren't exactly the type to accept favours or IOUs.

“You bet I will.”

He tucked the card into his pocket and continued his rushed exit from the casino. The lush carpet that always reeked of cigarettes gave way to the hard concrete.

They sat in the old car together listening to the rain patter on the roof, Dwight fiddled with the radio knob for a while before resigning to a talk show that wasn't completely drowned out by the static . He slumped back in his seat and reached his hand out instinctively. It came to rest on top of Ace's where it sat on the gear shift, and he  gently ran his thumb across his knuckles.

“I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“That you didn't win.”

“Dwight.. you're a terrible con-partner,” he smirked, “But that was the fault of a terrible con-man.”

“Still the best I've ever met.”

“And how many have you met?”

They both let out a chuckle before opting to sit  quietly and let the radio fill the silence.  Advert after advert played, they'd heard them plenty of times already, the annoying jingles stuck into your head like a catchy top 40 pop song . It didn't matter, though, the silence meant being alone with their thoughts, and Ace couldn't do it.

He had no money, no house, his jewelry was all fake.. he didn't know where to go from here. Sell the car? With the car at least they had a safe place to sleep. He  just had to come into a little bit of money and he could salvage the situation, he always did. He’d figure this out.

He was in too deep, deeper than Dwight knew, and he sure as hell wouldn't make it at a regular job, he'd never done an honest day's work in his life . He looked down at Dwight's hand on his; warm, soft, pale, and a source of certainty in his life. Certain that no matter what he did or didn't do, Dwight would be at his side. It hurt to think he deserved better, it hurt more to think of him being with someone else. He shook his head, realizing he'd become lost in his own thoughts anyway.

“You did great in there, Dwight, I'm sorry I messed it up for us.”

Dwight was looking at him, his eyes soft, and his smile warm, it was forgiveness for his wrong doings. It was a look Ace had seen a hundred times before, men and women alike staring him down with that face of hopeless love.  He returned the look,  genuinely in this case, letting that wave of certainty settle over him again staring into those dark brown eyes .

Dwight's expression changed, from one of complete comfort to one of fear. The driver's side door ripped open and Ace  was yanked from the car.  He landed hard on the wet concrete, he could hear Dwight shouting, some shuffling, and something hitting the side of the car  multiple times . Somebody grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him to his feet.

“Fancy meeting you here, Mr. Visconti,” it was a dark, mocking tone, “I heard you owe someone some money.”

Ace couldn't remember the debt collector’s name, something with a C? Collin? Carson? Clark?

“Heyyyy.. Clark.”

“It's James.”

_ Whoops. _

“Right, right, well you'd be right about the money thing,” he took a step backwards, preparing to run, “And I'm working on that .”

James took a step closer, “I heard you've been working on that for a few weeks now.”

“What can I say? I'm a busy man, other things to do.”

“Funny.” He looked quite unamused, “I  was sent here to offer you something “

Ace raised a questioning eyebrow, unsure of what to think. He froze in place instead of continuing to back up.

“Offer?”

James turned and headed back to the car he had parked several dozen feet from Ace's and popped the trunk. He  cautiously approached the car, much like a stray cat would approach a person on the street. He didn't trust the situation, and he could  certainly run but.. He turned around to look for Dwight, knowing he couldn't leave him with someone like this.

Something cracked against the back of his skull, and again as he fell to his knees. With the third strike he crumpled completely, shielding himself with his hands.

James stood over him with a tire iron, covered in his blood and some of his hair. This was the offer, _pay for your debts with your life, _there was no second option. The debt collector reeled back and brought the tire iron down one last time across Ace's forehead.

He awoke to darkness, the rumble of a car engine, and crying. He groaned as he gripped his head, the pain still very fresh. The warm body next to him reached out and wrapped itself around him. Dwight. 

“Please, god,” he prayed aloud.

He  was stuffed into the dark trunk of a car, and Dwight was with him. The last person who deserved this. He ran his hand through Dwight's sweat slicked hair. He wished he could lie, tell him they would make it out of this, that he'd get them out of it. He knew Dwight wasn't stupid and he knew that this was the end of the road.

“I'm so sorry, Dwight.”

He whispered it over and over again as they clung to each other in the small trunk until the car came to a stop.  Two car doors slammed, some shuffling, another car door slamming, and then footsteps towards the trunk . There was a moment where the only sound was their breathing and the rain on the car.

The lid popped and was  slowly opened, James stood over them both with the man Ace assumed had subdued Dwight earlier . He waited for James to jerk his head before pulling himself up and out and then turning to lend Dwight a hand. They stood before the two debt collectors, shaking, covered in blood, and waiting.

James thrust a shovel into each of their hands and pointed, “Dig.”

A chill ran down Ace's spine, he knew this day would come, somewhere deep down.  On the surface he had always pretended like he could outrun the danger no matter what, after all, luck had always been on his side . Now it seemed it had finally run out, and his years of bad habits caught up to him all at once. 

They spent two hours digging a hole.  Mostly him since Dwight could  barely see, his glasses had  been knocked off at some point during the initial attack, and now they stood at the edge together . Hands locked, shoulder to shoulder.

“James, this has nothing to do with him.”

Footsteps approached him.

“Please,” he became more desperate, “It's my debt, not his.”

James pressed into his back and leaned into his ear, “Any friend of yours is no friend of mine, Mr. Visconti.”

His ears rang after a gunshot fired so close to him. He stood in shock, Dwight had fallen forwards and landed face-down in the pit they'd dug. Not that he had much of a face left. Brain matter and bone shards covered his suit and dripped down in streaks with the rain water. 

He'd brought him into this, and for that he'd felt guilty, but this.. this was unforgivable, not that he could  really beg for the forgiveness. He fell to his knees in the wet sand and waited for his fate. He prayed  silently , if there was a God, for them to be merciful on his wicked soul. To wash his hands from what he'd done here.

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered, only to himself, seconds before the second gunshot rang out and his lifeless body slumped and collapsed on top of Dwight's .


End file.
